Page 146 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“Have whatever the hell you want to eat!” he yelled, pounding his empty beer mug on the wooden table. His sudden outburst caught me off guard, and I struggled to keep my calm demeanor.
“The cobb salad,” I told the waiter, thrusting my menu into his hands. I wanted him to leave quickly and based on the look on his face, he wanted to leave quickly as well. Brad and I didn’t speak until the waiter returned with our food.
I pushed the salad around with my fork, not hungry at all. My appetite had left the restaurant as soon as Brad had his mini tantrum. The silence and awkwardness was killing me, though. I never did well with conflict.
“Just think, if I eat like this every day until the wedding, I’ll be a supermodel!” I broke the silence and forced a smile.
Brad nearly choked on his beer. He set it down and smiled at me. Well, more like smirked.
“It’s going to take a lot more than salad for that,” he said. “By the way, that ranch dressing is full of fat. You probably would have been better off going for the cheeseburger.”
If anyone knew what was better to eat, it was Brad. Unlike me, he was in shape. He worked out daily. Some days, he even worked out twice a day. After we got engaged, he tried to get me to work out with him, but it was not pretty. He never invited me back.
Aside from working out, he had a great metabolism. The greasy double cheeseburger and fries that he ordered wouldn’t make a dent in his perfect six-pack abs.
“Maybe I should start going back to the gym with you,” I said, offering a simple shrug. “You could teach me what to do to lose weight for the wedding.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for that, Tiffany. I have my own shit to do.”
Surprise, surprise.
I don’t know why I expected anything different. As much as I hated to admit it, Brad was an asshole, and yet I couldn’t walk away. I was too locked into the idea of a future together. But the truth was harsh. My needs never came before his. I dropped the subject as quickly as I had brought it up. Brad continued to watch the game intently.
“Speaking of the gym, how did it go today?” I asked. Turning the attention to him was usually a great conversation starter.
“Fine,” he said, still watching the game.
“How was work?” I was desperate to get him to talk.
“Fine,” he repeated.
I sighed. I wasn’t sure what I had done to piss him off, but it didn’t seem as if he would get out of this mood anytime soon.
“Are you going to eat, or did I just waste my money on this whole dinner?” Brad suddenly turned his attention to me.
“I’m not hungry,” I admitted.
“Great,” he said, throwing a wad of cash on the table. “Let’s get out of this hellhole.”
* * *
Minutes later, we arrived at the apartment I shared with my best friend, Mandy. She was a nurse who worked nights, which meant the apartment was currently empty. Perhaps this night wasn’t completely shot, yet. Brad and I could have some drinks and end up in the bedroom. Maybe he was just stressed out and needed to relieve some tension.
I returned from the kitchen and handed Brad a beer. He grabbed it but tried to avoid eye contact with me.
“Let’s talk,” he said, patting the space next to him on the couch. My mood instantly boosted.
Yes. Let’s talk! Finally
He hadn’t spoken on the whole ride home. Maybe he was thinking about what an asshole he had been during dinner. Doubtful, but a girl could hope.
“I am so glad to hear that,” I dropped down on the couch, maybe a bit too eager. “What do you want to talk about? I thought maybe we could have the wedding next June? It’s not too late to book a date.”
Brad sighed and ran his hand through his short blond hair.
“I didn’t mean talk about the wedding,” he said. “Don’t you realize how sick I am of talking about this wedding?”
“No…” My voice trailed off as Brad continued to talk.
